


Observant

by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome Bobby Singer, Fluff, M/M, POV Bobby Singer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 04:31:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11775558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleakim/pseuds/peanutbutterjelly-pie
Summary: -Bobby is a very observant man.And perhaps his instincts ain't that sharp than they used to be, but he can honestly tell when one of his boys is head-over-heels.*  *  *  *  *(In which Bobby is awesome as ever, not afraid to give an angel of the Lord the"Don't hurt his feelings"-speech!)_





	Observant

**Author's Note:**

> **prompt by Anonymous:** “How about Bobby giving Castiel “The Speech”?? I'd pay money to see that :D”
> 
> -

Bobby is a very observant man.

And perhaps his instincts ain't that sharp than they used to be, but he can honestly tell when one of his boys is head-over-heels.

Granted, he's never seen Dean in love before, the signs, however, are really hard to miss. The long-lasting looks (sometimes it goes on for freaking  _minutes_!), the lack of any personal space whatsoever and the hesitant and obviously calculating touches. Bobby's never seen his boy act like this before.

And usually he'd be glad for Dean because he'd sure as hell deserve some goddamned happiness for a change.

But  _of course_  Dean chose the most inconvenient time ever to grow some feelings.

The fucking apocalypse, Lucifer roaming free, all of Heaven searching for the brothers … it's seriously not the most perfect time. Dean, however, never gave a damn about something like that, so it's no surprise that he waited for the end of the world.

And  _naturally_  Dean's object of affection turned out to be a frigging angel of the Lord.

It took some time for Bobby to catch on since a possible liaison between his foster son and a supernatural being so old and powerful he could probably crush them in an instant and write a detailed report about it at the same time wasn't exactly the first thing that popped into his mind. He just assumed that the lack of personal space and the soulful looks were explained by Castiel's inexperience with human customs.

And it probably really started that way because Dean used to complain about Castiel's weirdness more than once, sometimes even quite colorful. But somehow along the way Bobby obviously missed the point when Dean suddenly stopped bitching out of the blue and instead sought the angel's proximity, apparently drawn to Castiel like a moth to the flame.

Now they're even standing closer than before, whispering into each other's ears, and though Castiel seems quite confused by Dean's sudden change concerning physical closeness and touch he never brings it up. Instead he appears rather happy about it (well, as happy as his constant blank expression allows). He doesn't even shy away from rubbing his thumb over Dean's oil-stained cheek one day like it's second nature, in the process ignoring or maybe not noticing Dean's quite remarkable blush and awkward fumbling.

Yeah, there are definitely some deeper emotions involved in that mess.

So Bobby decides on a sunny Thursday afternoon to have a serious talk with that angel.

The opportunity presents itself only a few hours later when he finds Castiel in the kitchen, staring out of the window as if he's searching for something important in the distance.

“Hey,” Bobby greets him gruffly. “Have a minute?”

Castiel turns toward him and he's obviously about to contradict (probably telling Bobby that no one  _owns_  time), but then he apparently reminds himself of his long lessons with the boys about figure of speech and says, “Of course I have.”

“Good.” Bobby nods and grabs himself a beer because he  _seriously_  needs some alcohol for this. “I wanna talk about Dean.”

Castiel listens up immediately. “Is something wrong?”

“Y'know, I love that boy like my own son,” Bobby continues. “I will always look out for him.”

Castiel squints his eyes, presumably puzzled what the man is getting at. But he refrains from interrupting and steps a few steps closer.

“I mean, I know he's a grown-up now,” Bobby says. “He doesn't need me to hold his frigging hand all the time. But when it  _matters_ , I'll be there for him. That's what family does for each other. And they  _are_  my family! Dean and Sam – there is nothing I wouldn't do for these boys.”

Hell, he'd even shave his beard and wear a pink dress for the rest of his life if that'd be necessary.

“And I know you're a powerful angel and such,” he grumbles. “Yeah, maybe not that powerful as you used to be, but you could still fry my brain without much effort, right?” He quirks his eyebrow expectantly. “And perhaps you think I'm a a stupid old man for standing right here in front of you, making some threats. I mean it sounds really dumb, even I have to say that. Nonetheless here we are.”

Castiel seems highly confused now. “You are …  _threatening_  me?”

Bobby nods fiercely. “You can bet your angel ass on that!”

Castiel watches him with his patented  _humans-make-no-sense_  expression. “Why would you do that? Did I do something wrong?”

“Not yet,” Bobby admits, shaking his head. “But there is possibility. And I'd hunt you down if you would ever dare to hurt Dean!”

Now Castiel's face turns rather reluctant. “I would never hurt Dean.”

“There are more ways than hurting someone physically, Cas,” Bobby objects before taking a big gulp of his beer. “And that boy, he likes you and that makes him vulnerable. I don't wanna see him cry because of you.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “I would never --”

“And I mean, you seem like an okay guy,” Bobby interjects, feeling kinda brave for shutting down a fucking angel of the Lord. “I guess you're a decent enough fella. So don't take it personally when I say that I'd send your sorry ass to hell fire without a getting-out-of-jail card if you'd ever dare to hurt Dean's feelings.”

Castiel falls silent after that, just staring at Bobby with those otherworldly, soul-sucking eyes of his, contemplating the hunter's words carefully. Eventually there is something like a tiny nod though you can still plain as day that he's quite bewildered about the whole thing.

But before he's able to say something Dean walks into the kitchen like a man on a mission, looking back and forth between the two men, his body tense, and asking, “What did I hear about hell fire?”

Almost automatically he gravitates closer to Castiel like he can't help himself and Bobby smiles slightly seeing that. Despite his threats he's glad that his boy found something to hold on to. Even when the timing is terrible.

“Bobby just told me he would send me to hell if I would hurt your feelings,” Castiel explains, matter-of-fact, not a single muscle twitching on his face. He ignores Dean's following gobsmacked expression and trains his attention on Bobby, his eyes serious. “And believe me, I would never do that. You have my word.”

Bobby returns his intense look and nods in acceptance.

The word of a freaking angel probably means something, right?

In the meantime Dean clears his throat very loudly, his face a mix of confusion, indignation and growing realization. “What is going on here?” he demands to know.

“Bobby is just worried about your emotional well-being,” Castiel clarifies. “And I merely assured him that I have no intention of hurting your feelings.”

Dean just gapes at Castiel for a while (Bobby is quite certain that stupid boy doesn't even notice  _how long_  he's always doing that) before he finally splutters, “That's … I don't think …  _Jeez_ , Bobby!”

His cheeks tinge red and he tries to throw a hard look in Bobby direction, but obviously is unable doing so without blushing some more, so he lowers his gaze instead.

“Someone had to, Dean,” Bobby says and he can't help feeling a little bit gleeful at the sight of a bashful Winchester. “Sam will probably have his fair share too eventually.”

Dean just grumbles unhappily while Bobby just claps his shoulder, grins widely at him and walks out of that kitchen like he owns it.

(And well, he actually does.)

So no one is able to sue him when he pauses a moment in the hallway, curious how all of this might go on.

Finally after a long period of silence (those idjits probably just stared into each other's eyes without any concept of time  _again_ ) Dean picks up his voice. “Um, I'm sorry about …  _that_. Bobby is an over-protective bastard sometimes.”

“It is quite alright, Dean,” Castiel reassures. And maybe Bobby is just an old fool, but he thinks he's detecting some amusement in the angel's tone. “I don't mind.”

“Yeah, just …” Dean seems to fidget uncomfortably. “Just ignore him, okay?”

“I don't think that is wise,” Castiel objects. “Bobby Singer is probably the only being on earth who would honestly be able to send an angel to hell. So I will take this  _very_  seriously.”

Bobby folds his arms in front of his chest and smiles smugly.

His job here is done.


End file.
